


Signs of Affection Prompt Fills

by FenHarellan (rogueofstorms)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Prompt Fill, prompt meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 15:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3330473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogueofstorms/pseuds/FenHarellan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Using geeky-jez's prompt that they wrote:<br/>Send me a NUMBER AND A PAIRING and I will write something to describe:</p><p>1. A Touch<br/>2. A Gift<br/>3. A Fantasy<br/>4. A Massage<br/>5. A Nap<br/>6. A Whisper<br/>7. A Moan<br/>8. A Love Bite<br/>9. The First Kiss<br/>10. The Last Kiss<br/>11. A Surprise Kiss<br/>12. A Slow Kiss<br/>13. A Drunk Kiss<br/>14. A Reunion Kiss<br/>15. A Goodnight Kiss<br/>16. A Doomed Kiss<br/>17. A Frightened Kiss<br/>18. A Cute Kiss<br/>19. A Kiss Below the Waist<br/>20. A Confession<br/>21. A Request<br/>22. A Promise<br/>23. Any of the Above (aka Author’s Choice)</p><p>If I get a duplicate prompt+pairing, I'll try to write a different fill. If I can't think of one, feel free to send me a second choice. And if you don’t send me a pairing, I’m just gonna pick one.</p><p>Chapter notes will have the prompt and pairing in them. My tumblr is rogueofstorms.tumblr.com (currently fenharellin.tumblr.com due to Solas feels) should you wish to have me write a prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Another World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First prompt! #17, a Frightened Kiss, featuring Solas/Lavellan. Warning: Game spoilers.

“What I must tell you...the truth.” Solas wasn’t sure he wanted to go through with this - would she fear him? revile him? Something inside told him that telling her would be a betrayal of himself and all he was trying to accomplish, but his heart knew that not telling her would be far, far worse.

Fen’Falon looked up at him, the dual nature of her eyes standing out clearly in this space. Green warred with warm brown as she looked expectantly at him. Stars he loved this woman.

“Please do not be afraid,” Solas said. “It has never been my intent to hurt you, to deceive you, to do anything to you aside from love you, _ma vhenan_.”

“Solas,” Fen’Falon said, fear creeping into her voice. “What are you on about?”

“ _Da’harellan_ \- little trickster, I call you - it’s more than just a nickname. I see so much of myself in you.”

“Does this have to do with the Nightmare from the Fade, Solas?”

Solas inclined his head. “In a way. It is complicated, ma vhenan. I am having trouble finding the words for this.”

“I promise I won’t hate you, if that helps, _vhenan_ ,” Fen’Falon reassured him. The woman in front of him was the most amazing creature on the planet - to forgive so easily, before even knowing what she was forgiving! Solas knew it not stay that way, however. Not once she knew. How could she, having grown up on stories of his evil, of his betrayal, of the wrongs laid at his feet.

Solas sighed. “I was not always called Solas. Once, long ago, I had another name, and all the elvhen knew it. You know it too, passed down through tales twisted over the centuries into mockeries of their origins.”

“Just bloody well say it already, Solas. You’re killing me here.”

“If you insist, _ma vhenan_. I...I was once known as Fen’Harel. The Dread Wolf.”

Silence. Fen’Falon’s mouth opened and shut, but no words came out.

“ _Vhenan_?”

“Please tell this was just the most tasteless joke you’ve ever pulled, Solas. Please.” The desperation in her voice nearly broke his heart all by itself.

“I will show you, then.” Solas gathered his will and shifted, becoming a white wolf with icy blue eyes. A further exertion of will brought all six eyes into visibility, each of them as blue as the others. He was greeted with a screech as Fen’Falon fell to the ground and scuttled away from him, fear replacing the anxiety and desperation on her face.

“Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…” Fen’Falon’s pupils were widened to their fullest, her breathing short and irregular as she repeated the two words. Solas had not wanted this, had not meant to cause panic and fear with his truth. If he allowed his love to continue like this, she would damage herself irreparably.

Solas shifted back into his elvhen shape and strode forwards, reaching Fen’Falon with three short steps. He crouched down in front of her curled form and she backed away until she reached the glen’s walls, unable to move farther from him. The fear had completely overtaken her, preventing her from thinking through this with her usual logic. Given the tales of him the Dalish told, he was unsurprised, although he had hoped for better.

Solas cupped Fen’Falon’s face in both hands, thumbs at her temples and fingers lightly pressed against her neck, and kissed her open-mouthed. Her eyes were still wide open even as she gave a muffled squeak and kissed him back.

“ _Ar lath ma, vhenan_. _Ma lath uth ma, emma lath_ ,” Solas said. _I love you, my heart. My love for you is eternal, my love._ He breathed easier as Fen’Falon’s breathing calmed and her eyes fluttered shut.

Fen’Falon took a deep breath and brought her hands up to rest against his cheeks. “ _Ar lath ma_ , Fen’Harel,” she told him. “You would not have stayed this long, allowed what we have had to flourish if there was not some kernel of truth to it. So I’ll stand by you, and the world can go fuck itself as long as we are together. We can always start again.”

Solas pressed his forehead against hers. “Perhaps not literally, though, _ma vhenan_?”

Her giggling brought a smile to his face. The worst was over. She believed him. She loved him still. And her name was more apt than it had ever been.

 


	2. Tevinter Templar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS SLIGHTLY NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill: #22, A promise. Cullen/Dorian.

“I can’t believe you would just go off like that!” shouted the blond ex-templar. Dorian couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face - he loved it when his lover got all protective like this.

“Look, the Inquisitor asked me to come, love,” said Dorian. “He knows the peasants can’t resist this handsome face anymore than you can.” He was standing in Cullen’s office, the doors shut to ensure privacy, although Dorian was pretty sure that the people in the courtyard could hear them anyways. Let them hear - they could be jealous of his prowess.

Cullen crossed in front of his desk to stand in arm’s reach of Dorian and blushed. “He asked you to what?”

Dorian chuckled wickedly. It seemed Cullen’s mind got a bit...dirty...when he had no lover around to take the edge off. He reached up with an olive-skinned hand to rest it against Cullen’s scruffy cheek. “You know what I meant. Or would you rather I did it for _you_?”

Cullen’s mouth opened but no words came out.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Dorian said, still smirking. He tugged Cullen’s chin forward and kissed the blond soundly on the lips.

“I worry about you, you know,” said Cullen when they broke for air.

“I know. How about this, I promise not to go off without informing you first, and in return I’ll fuck you senseless right here.”

Cullen gulped and his face turned even redder. It always amused Dorian how easy it was to make the man blush - all those years of templar training coupled with Circle living had sheltered the poor man. Dorian wondered if Cullen would stop blushing eventually, or if the endearing reaction would continue long into their relationship.

“That...that sounds fair,” Cullen said. Dorian wrapped both his hands around Cullen’s waist and pulled the two men together. One hand reached up into Cullen’s hair and pulled the blond’s head back and up so that Dorian could claim Cullen’s mouth once more. He pushed his tongue inside, eager to taste every piece of his lover after more than a week on the road with the Inquisitor. Dorian used his legs to maneuver Cullen against the templar’s desk and swept the paperwork off haphazardly. Cullen would complain later about the effort needed to reorganise the piles, but for now Dorian’s lover was incapable of rational speech.

Dorian broke for air and laid kisses along Cullen’s unshaven jawline, trailing them down to his neck. Nibbling at the sensitive skin there made Cullen moan with need, the templar’s hands making a grab for the laces of Dorian’s breeches. Dorian growled and grasped both with his own hands to pin Cullen against the desk.

“Not yet, love,” Dorian said.

“But soon?” Cullen asked, almost pouting.

“I promise.”

“You do? You swear?”

Dorian kissed Cullen again on the lips. “I promise,” he said, and kissed Cullen’s jaw.

“I promise,” Dorian said as he pulled Cullen’s shirt off.

“I promise,” he said as he kissed his way down to the edge of Cullen’s breeches.

“I promise.”

The birds that roosted on top of Cullen’s tower flew off with rude calls as the pair’s lovemaking reached a crescendo. Cullen’s moan as he reached his climax disturbed even Leliana’s raven in the tower across the way, and the people in the courtyard shook their heads and tried to ignore the echoing sounds carried down to them. It was going to be a long and uncomfortable afternoon for the people of Skyhold.

 


	3. Fall of Arlathan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by ImpossibleStories on tumblr: #22, A promise. Solas/Lavellan.
> 
> For some reason this demanded to be an AU, so here, have a modernAU!Solavellan.

She’d only been playing Fall of Arlathan for a week when they first spoke. She was determined to be a free agent, guildless and a power for chaos in the world. Two of the larger guild leaders - a man known as PrinceVael and an enormous flirt known as Zevran had both approached her to join, but she had declined. And then DreadWolf contacted her.

>DreadWolf: An agent for chaos? How intriguing.

>Quiz: And a guy who managed to get a username related to the mythos isn’t?

>DreadWolf: I concede your point. I have been considering starting a guild - your goals seem in line with my own. Interested?

>Quiz: Yeah, I read your page.

>Quiz: Spread chaos and freedom for all?

>Quiz: I can get behind that.

>[DreadWolf has sent you a guild invitation]

Things sort of spiralled from there. The game itself was relatively simple - minimal graphics, click hyperlinks to make things happen. Most of the fun came from the community. The in-game chat was where the active players hid, and the forums were alive with contests, chatter, and roleplayers. Ellara blamed DreadWolf for getting her into that section, the crafty bastard. He’d been running a thread where his character was on a mission to free the slaves that everyone owned.

In-game, it was done such that as you gained levels, you gained slaves, and you could choose a god of the world to follow, which would mark all your slaves with a design unique to that god. You got bonuses depending on the god, but there was one god of the myth that no one was allowed to choose - Fen’Harel. The source for DreadWolf’s username.

 

* * *

 

Two years into playing Arlathan and Ellara and DreadWolf had migrated from private messages for roleplay planning to videochatting. His webcam was a piece of shit, and frequently didn’t work, but Ellara didn’t mind. DreadWolf’s vaguely British accent had her wanting to meet him from the first “hello” he’d spoken.  Together, their characters romped across Thedas, and they occasionally brought in other high level players to be the folks whose slaves they freed, or whose wine and cheese they’d stolen that evening. In their roleplays, their characters were together - not quite lovers, but definitely dating. Ellara often found herself wondering what it would be like to do the things their characters did with the man behind the name.

The first time she’d seen his face had been a pleasant surprise - high cheekbones and gorgeous gray eyes. DreadWolf was clearly a punkrocker or metalhead: his hair was cut into a mohawk, but instead of letting the hair fall loose, the enigmatic man had woven it into dreadlocks. Unable to help herself, Ellara had started referring to him as DreadedWolf in all of their chats, much to his annoyance. She couldn’t help herself - the pun was too easy to ignore. The downside was that it turned out his accent was authentic - he lived in London, a far cry from her own Atlanta, Georgia home. His face was also oddly familiar for some reason, though she couldn’t place it.

>Quiz: are you ever in the states?

>DreadWolf: I occasionally travel there for work. May I ask why, Ell?

>Quiz: Well…

>DreadWolf: Yes?

>Quiz: It would be really cool to meet you in person, y’know?

>DreadWolf: :) Yes, that would be rather neat. I believe I have a conference for work next month in Washington, for instance.

>Quiz: Would it be creepy of me to try and find you there?

>DreadWolf: On the contrary, I think I would rather enjoy seeing you in person as well.

>Quiz: So…

>Quiz: If I make it up to DC…

>Quiz: you promise you’ll find a way to meet up with me?

>DreadWolf: I promise, Ell.

>Quiz: ...

>Quiz: When are you in town?

Date set, and it was all Ellara could do to keep from shouting her news to the city. In two weeks she would meet Solas in person. In Washington, DC. She wondered what he was doing there, and decided that she would ask him when they met.

 

* * *

 

Her phone buzzed. [1 new message] the screen read. Ellara opened it.

>I am inside Union Station, Quiz. I will stand outside Johnny Rocket’s and look for you.

>> OMG! omw, was outside by the fountain.

Ellara practically ran to the doors that led inside, completely ignoring the arched ceiling of the inside of the terminal. She speed-walked through and hung a left to reach the escalators that led to the lower shopping level and the DC subway system. A quick U-turn saw her in the right direction and...there! Just as he’d said, right outside Johnny Rocket’s. His hair made him easy to spot, for which Ellara was grateful.

She thought she could have recognised him anyways - he wore a leather jacket over a cream t-shirt and dark jeans were tucked into motorcycle boots. Like Fen’Harel from Fall of Arlathan, Solas wore a wolf’s jawbone as a necklace, hung low so it rested just below his diaphragm. Ellara bounced as she stepped forward, her earrings jingling.

“Solas!” she cried out. The excitable woman plowed into him, hugging him fiercely. He hesitated briefly before hugging her back.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Quiz - Ellara.” Solas maneuvered Ellara out to arms length. “You look good. Better than on that damn camera.”

“Could say the same to you, buddy. C’mon, let’s grab food - I didn’t even know they still had this place here!”

 


End file.
